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RHYMES 

BY HAL WYATT 

DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER 



ILLUSTRATED BY THE 
AUTHOR 



1922 
HAL WYATT 

1210 WEST THIRTY-SIXTH STREET 

Los ANGELES. CALIFORNIA 



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COPYRIGHT 1922, 

By 

HAL WYATT. 



©C1A6SS836 

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CONTENTS 

THE ROLLING TIDE 7 

THE PROMISE OF MORNING 9 

THE BLABBERS 11 

THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS 13 

SING ME A SONG OF SIX-PENCE 15 

WHAT'S THE USE OF V/ISHING? 17 

I AIN'T NO MARRYING MAN 19 

POOR LITTLE TEDDY BEAR 21 

REFLECTION 22 

DER SILLY SCRAP 23 

THERE IS NO TIME TO WEEP 24 

HOW SWEET ARE YOU? 25 

TODAYS BUT YESTERDAYS 26 

LIS'EN HONEY 27 

THE SONG OF CHRISTMAS BELLS 29 

A SISTER 32 

THE MATING CALL 33 

WHAT I LEARNED AT SCHOOL 34 

HOOK WORM 37 

TO BE AT PEACE 38 

I KNOW EVERYTHING 39 

MAMMY'S LULLABY 40 

HI, THERE! 41 

TO THYSELF BE TRUE 42 

THE CROSS 42 

TIME DOES NOT CHANGE 43 

WHO PLEASES US 43 

HE WHO IS GREAT 43 

NO APOLOGY 44 

THE FISHERMEN 45 




THE ROLLING TIDE 

The rolling tide of the sea of life 

Rolls o'er the sands of time, 
And bears through ocean's seething strife 

My fragile craft, sublime. 
Its far most prow has lapped the shore 

And time holds out its hand. 
One clasp and then the ocean's roar 

Draws back away from land. 

sea, of life from whence I came 

And where again I go, 
I've been an instant, learned a Name 

And now the tide runs low, 
Before I was I did not know 

Nor yet I understand, 
And now the tide is running low 

And bearing me from land. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



bounding sea, canst tell thou me 

That flows from whence I came, 
What store there is for me at sea 

Since I have learned a Name? 
A Name that is and always was 

And yet I did not know 
Until an instant's consciousness 

And now the tide runs low. 

Will fresher tides bear me to land 

A million times in time 
'Til consciousness will understand 

In realms of thoughts sublime? 
I've been in time and learned a Name 

And now the chill winds blow. 
My frail craft drifts from whence I came 

As tides are running low. 



M 







KHYMES— Wyatt 

THE PROMISE OF MORNING 

There's a promise in the morning 

When tiie grass is wet with dew, 
When the first rays are adorning 

SiDear and twig with rainbow hue, 
When the air is sweet and cooling 

Blowing fragrance from the fields 
And we know there's Someone ruling 

With a promise of rich yields. 

V»^hen the cows are early lowing 

Seems as if they understood, 
While the chanticleers shrill crowing 

Just because they feel so good 
Brings an answer to their calling 

From their neighbors' joyous throats, 
And the thrushes' notes a falling 

Breathes a promise in the notes. 

Notice how the gay grasshopper 

In the fresh morn hops with glee, 
There's no use to try to stop her 

As her heart is gay and free. 
And the jay upon the arbor 

Bobs its head in sheer delight 
Telling all that mornings harbor 

Promises that live through night. 







THE BLABBERS 



RHYMES— Wyatt 11 

THE BLABBERS 

Just how the tale got out, I swan ! 

I'm sure I can't discover 
But now its told for miles around 

That I am Jane Brown's lover, 
We both were pledged to secrecy 

'Til I had won my spurs. 
And the only way it 'pears to me 

Is just what Jane avers, 
We whispered it beneath the tree, 

Who told it to the smart pee-wee. 
Who must have blabbed it to the bee 

And that old bungling, bumble bee 
Has sung around 'bout Jane and me. 

I know that tree, a tatling pine 

Where I had carved Jane's name with mine 
And deeply lined sweet Cupid's dart 

Struck through the center of a heart, 
We loved her aromatic breath 

And both vowed love clear on through death 
Beneath her branches' woven shade, 

But now she's tattled, I'm afraid. 
We only spoke it 'neath that tree, 

She must have told that pert pee-wee, 
That chatter-box blabbed to the bee, 

(The lazy, droning bumble bee) 
Who's sung around 'bout Jane and me. 



12 RHYMES— Wyat 

Because I built a rustic seat 

Around the trunk of that pine tree, 
Where every day I went to meet 

Dear Jane, who came to be with me, 
I'm sure 'tv/ould not cause folks to think 

That I loved Jane and she loved me 
But when 1 pass I see them wink 

All on account of that pine tree. 
yes, the tree, told the pee-wee, 

Who couldn't wait to tell the bee, 
(The driveling-, blabbing bumble bee) 

And course he's blabbed 'bout Jane and me. 



P.HYMES— Wyatt 13 





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THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS 

The ambrosial days have come with all their vernal throng 
Attended by the choral hosts, that bathes the woods in 
song, 

The feathered deputation sing, "behold the birth of flowers," 
They're clinging to the breasts of earth in shady nooks 
and bowers. 

On tendril stem the violet, sways in the austral breeze, 

While buttercups with golden smiles and softly toned 

I heartsease 

iGlow brightly like effulgent gems beneath the sap wet trees. 

|The thrush sings in the lilac bush whose globate buds have 

I burst, 

I While impearled devvs, in lily cups, dissolve and quench 
their thirst, 

Sweetwilliams troop across the fields that lately lay impregn, 

■ Whose breath the meadow larks descant in unified es- 
teem. 

The grasses green in emerald sheen have carpeted the lanes 
And hedges run unbrageous lines across the heathered 
plains. 

While down the slopes the blue bell hosts trip in joyous 
trains. 



14 RHYMES— Wyatt 

The sun beam wooes the dandelion and lives in her embrace, 
The roguish little zephers kiss the wind flowers blush- 
ing face, 
Mother earth in sweet content, which maternal instincts 
bring, 
Basks in the joy of motherhood and nurses her offsping. 
In euphonic notes the song birds sing, ''the flowers are born 
again," 
While through the reed harmonium, the wind plays 
the refrain 
And mellifluent streams murmur, "I'm glad they've come 
again." 




EHYMES— Wyatt 15 

SING ME A SONG OF SIX-PENCE 

0, sing me a song of six-pence 

And pockets filled with rye, 
But not of kings in opulence 

When served to guilded pie. 

Sing to me of humble homes 

Where hearts are free from guile, 
Where 'round the hearth a true love roams 

And a smile is just a smile. 

Where sympathy felt in the heart 

Assuages pain of years. 
And love in courtship has a part 

And tears are honest tears. 
i 
[I love the humble, homely theme 

Of small things and their worth, 
Of simple joys that gently teem 

With simple homespun mirth. 

The clasp of hands that honest work 

Has browned with weary toil. 
Brings pleasant thrills that always shirk 

To thrill the hands of spoil. 

0, not of guilded palaces 

I would that you would sing, 
But of humble homes with trellises, 

Where honey suckle cling. 



16 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



For song's of lowly six-pence 
And pockets filled v/ith rye, 

Are sweeter far than opulence 
When served to g'uilded pie. 




KHYMES— Wyatt 17 

WHAT'S THE USE OF WISHING ? 

At times I git ter thinkin' 'bout the gals 

With their soft skin and silkj^ fluffy curls, 
And purty eyes that with their lips jest smile 

Until my head gits giddy like and whirls, 
And I wonder if there's any gal that lives 

That could ever care a little bit for me 
But, I've growed up so ugly that it gives 

The shivers ter a gal for just ter see 
An ugly, awkward, rawboned cuss like me. 

I simply love ter hear the girls giggle 

And cuttin' up and laughin' with each other. 
Jest like kittens play around and wiggle 

Onless they're with a chap, who aint their brother. 
I'm jealous, though I haven't got no show 

And sometimes feel like taking paw's old gun 
When I see fellers with their gals and go 

Out ter the barn and have my mis'ry done, 
Caise yer jest as well be dead as have no fun. 

It's mighty darned blamed funny in my case, 

At night when I have milked and fed the calf 
I oil my hair and slick my ugly face 

And think of funny things ter make gals laugh, 
But blame me, when I see them, I cain't talk. 

Gee ! I wish I could, but no use wishin' 
0, well, I guess I'll git my lines and walk 

Down to the creek and try a little fishin'. 
But gosh ! I wish— but what's the use of wishin' ? 









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KHYMES— Wyatt 19 

I AIN'T NO MARRYING MAN 

It makes me plumb mad when I hears 

Folks ax, "say Bill, why don't yer wed, 
Yer gittin' long right smart in years 

And the gray gits prominent on yer head?" 
I don't go meddlin' with folks affairs, 

That aint my style or aint my plan, 
Jest let them harness up in pairs 

As fer me, I aint no marrying man. 

And I hears folks er tellin' 'round 

That I'm too lazy ter sport a wife 
And would rather loaf about their town 

Or fish away my worthless life. 
But let 'em rave, don't hurt me none, 

A skillet, plate and dish and pan 
Will take the place o' wimmen, son 

And I simply aint no marrying man. 

Fer instance, see this here houn' pup, 

He alius shares my board and bed 
And both us point blank won't git up 

Until the sun is ripe and red, 
Onless we're on er experdition 

Then up so early me and Dan, 
We wouldn't hev no fun in fishin' 

Except I warn't no marrying man. 



20 RHYMES— Wyatt 

And it 'fects me cur'os ter be bossed, 

I'd hate ter be in Duncan's shoes, 
He's alius a gettin' double crossed 

And caint do nothin' that he choose, 
Think he could smoke his cob in bed 

Like I do when I'm f eelin' blue ? 
She'd yank his year right off his head 

And so would other wimmen too. 

I sometimes think my frens are sore 

Caise I don't 'sume er lot of care 
And 'nex er widder with three or four 

Ter make up fer my easy share; 
Now I aint sot agin this matin', 

At times I think I'll try the plan 
But give it up on close debatin' 

As I just warn't born no marrying man. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 21 

POOR LITTLE TEDDY BEAR 

In a cubby hole beneath the stair 

With a tear in his one beady eye, 
Neglected he lie, a small teddy bear 

With no one to hear his sad sigh. 

The hair on his nose was bare and thin 

Where sweet baby lips had been pressed 

And one poor leg was hung by a pin, 
0, he looked so very distressed. 

And through a big gap, his sawdust heart 

That was all leaking out on the floor. 
Indicated it burst when he had to part 

With one he had learned to adore. 

Small arms were missed for many a day 

And a voice would be heard never more, 

Now midst a heap of rubbish he lay 
In the dust of a cubby hole floor. 

No one to wipe the tear from his eye. 

No one to pity or care 
No one to answer the broken heart sigh 

Of the poor little, brown teddy bear. 



22 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



REFLECTION 

Beneath the drooping willow trees 

Reflected in the pool below, 
Distinct, the shadows as the breeze 

Move bending branches to and fro. 
The air was pure and strong- with light 

While the shadows imaged clear and bright. 

When lo! a sudden mist arose 

Obscuring all the things in view. 
And less and less each image grows 

That had reflected clear and true. 
Before the sun a mist arose 

The breeze becomes a wind that blows. 

Just so, when thought is pure and clear, 

In the life pool of consciousness 
We see the image without fear 

That cannot know the least duress. 
But through the mist of mortal mind 

Truth's image can not be defined. 




RHYMES— Wyatt 23 

DER SILLY SCHAP 

I know a man, a friendt of mine, 

Who vas a silly schap 
Und effer dime he goes ter ped 

He takes a liddle nap, 
Den ven der mornings rolled aroundt 

Und den der sun arose 
Dis silly schap ; now vat you dinks ? 

He pudts on all his clothes. 

Aboudt a veek or two ago 

Or schust der day before, 
Because I dook his ofer coat 

Dis sillj^ man got sore; 
He vas der queerest schap I know 

It almost makes me cry, 
I don't know how to dake dis man 

No madder how I dry. 

Vy schust last night he smash miy nose 

Und almost dook my life 
Ven der only ding I effer done 

Vas schust ter kiss his wife 
It almost preaks my heart ter know 

So mean und queer a schap — 
Ven I haf let him lendt me coin 

A dozen times, perhaps — 

Veil vat's der use, — I've been his friendt 

Der pest he effer hadt 
But schust der same, by yimminny ! 

He somedimes gets me madt. 



24 RHYMES— Wyatt 

THERE IS NO TIME TO WEEP 

Dry your eyes my tearful friend, 

There is no time to weep, 
Besides who cares that thoughts attend 

To drive away your sleep? 
When sickness creeps upon the mind 

The love of friends is deaf and blind. 

Self pity lives a lonesome life, 

It strays not from its home, 
No sorrow of another's strife 

Will step within its gloam: 
It only talks to self of grief 

'Til self has grown in its belief. 

But notice how a smile will flit 

Between the hours of day 
From one brave heart to go and sit 

Where happy thoughts hold sway, 
It barters love foi* joy in lieu 

Of bitter thoughts that sadden you. 

Grief and joy must live apart, 

A smile knows not a tear. 
The one is true born of the heart, 

The other born of fear: 
When sorrow speaks of woes that hurt 

Why not to smiles and joys revert? 



RHYMES— Wyatt 25 

HOW SWEET ARE YOU? 

Sv/eet is the maid, when sweet six-teen 

With the tint in her cheeks of a rosebud's sheen 

With the gold of the beam in wanton play 
Splashing her hair with its gilded spray, 

While soft lips quiver in fancied bliss 

With the lover's thrill of a soul felt kiss. 

But sweeter still than sweet six-teen 

Of the mystic maid of youthful mein, 
Is the ripened flower of thirty-two, 

For as one six-teen is sweet 'tis true 
That two six-teens are doubly fair 

As twice the sweet lies in a pair. 

And as the days leap into years 

Fed with smiles and bathed in tears, 
The sweet of a maid as the sweet of a flower 

Grows fragrant more with the v/aning hour, 
As the hint of a sv\^eet or the trace of perfume 

Possesses charms not in full bloom. 

Even as petals fall from the rose 

The scent of its breath more subtile grows, 

As tresses streak with silvery gray 

The sweetness of years is stored away, 

Sweet six-teen is sweet 'tis true 

But grows with time; how sv/eet are you? 



26 RHYMES— Wyatt 

TODAYS BUT YESTERDAYS 

A seared leaf loosed its withered lips 

From mother tree whose breasts were dry 

And with manj^ a flit and downward dips 
Fell to dank earth there to die. 

A day fell from my tree of life, 

Whose growth new realms of time must find 
And quietly dropped from teeming strife 

Into the silence left behind. 

But lo! upon that limb when seen 

E're many days had twinkled by, 
I marveled that the leaf now green 

Waved at the bluebirds singing nigh. 

While from the tree of life the flower, 

That bloomed in thought of days of yore. 

Glowed brightly in the present hour 

And then I marveled more and more. 

In ceaseless glide, do present days 

Press in tomorrow's share of time 
Or are we living yesterdays 

Refreshed with God's process, sublime? 



RHYMES— Wyatt 27 

LIS'EN HONEY 

Lis'en honey, doan yo' membah, what yo' tole me las' 

Decembah 
When de wind was jest er howlin' and the groun' was 

white wid snow 

Yo' said Sambo, wait 'til spring, when de lark am on de wing. 

Wait 'til wintah's quit its growlin' and de soft souf wind 

do blow. 

Den yo' voice soun' lak de strummin' 

Ob mah banjo when its hummin' 
Tunes from heaben dat de angels sen', 
While from yo' lips red lak de cherry 
Came de words, "den us'll mary 

In de spring wid de robbin and de wren." 

Lis'en honey! heah dat singin' 

Ob dat lark dat sits dar swingin' 
Swayin' on a bough in de breeze. 
See dat perky, saucy robbin 

Dat from limb to limb am bobbin' 

Huntin' fo' a homesite in de trees. 
Feel dat soft wind from de souf 

Kiss yo' on de hair an' mouf. 
It am time dat we was matin' wid de res'. 
Sprig am heah, de calves am sheddin' 
Doan yo' see mah ahms outspreadin' 

Jest to fold yo' clos agin mah breas'? 



28 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



Down upon de smilin' riber, 

Whar at night de moonbeams quiber, 
I's a cabin dar beneath er 'simmon tree, 
It am peepin' froo de vines 
And all de time it pines 

Fo' de day when yo' is comin' home wid me. 




RHYMES— Wyatt 29 

THE SONG OF CHRISTMAS BELLS 

I sit in the purple gloaming of the dusk of Christmas eve 
And listen to the toning of the bells that seem to leave 

A strain of joy and sorrow in their wake of silvery peal 
Bring tidings of the morrow with their notes of woe and 
weal. 

And from my darkened room I can see the dazzling glare 
As street lamps pierce the gloom and passing faces 
there, 

And in whim of fancy's mind as a stately man goes by 
I steal along behind as the man does homeward hie. 

0, the loving hugs and pats as his children run to meet 

And his wife takes coat and hat with a loving kiss to 
greet 
I And the mistletoe and holly and the flowers and evergreen 
I With the rippling laughs so jolly, filled the room with 

joyous sheen. 
I 

( 'Tis but the instant's fancy and the Christmas bells still ring, 
] Then my mind reverts again to the arc lights circling 

\ fling 

' Of lights that pierce the shadows and draws from murky 
night 
The figure of a woman, wan and haggard in the light. 



30 RHYMES— Wyatt 

With feelings dread and dire I follow to her home, 

But at times she seems to tire as she stumbles through 
the gloam, 
Tho' at last we reach her quarters, in the garret 'neath the 
eaves, 
With the broken panes and piaster and the holes filled 
up with leaves. 

On a pallet lies a cripple, worn and wasted with disease. 
In the moonlights silver stipple is a child on bended 
knees. 
And I hear their flaccid voices blending in beseeching prayer 
While the mother passes out to weep alone upon the 
stair. 

From this scene I quickly turn to forget its pain and grief; 
But the painful scene still burns through my mind in' 
sharp relief, 
When kneeling 'gainst the churchsteps where the ivy's 
clinging dead 
I seem to see a figure with a halo 'bove His head. 

And through the doors inside, throng a happy joyous crowd,' 
In their eyes are looks of pride, on their lips are words 
of God, 
But they do not see the figure, kneeling there with head 
bowed low 
As the halo 'bout His brow is not as bright as gowns 
that glow. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



31 



'Tis but the fancy's story told in song of Christmas bell 

But there's sadness with the glory that the rays of 
cheer can't quell 
As I hear it in the peals of the bells across the snow 

There's a sob bound in their sweetness as they're ring- 
ing soft and low. 




32 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



A SISTER 

I loved her but her pretty eyes 

That looked me through with out a sign, 
Said O, so plain that never sighs 

Were in her heart to answers mine, 
I did not ask to know her heart, 

When eyes speak not of love's sweet gain 
How could I bear to see the part 

Of her dear lips in speaking pain ? 

I checked the torrent of the word 

That clammered for my love's appeal, 

The answer to my heart was heard 

Not through my ears but what I feel ; 

What use is there of added pain 

When eyes speak not I love you too, 

And listen to that sad refrain, 

I'll be a sister dear, to you. 




RHYMES— Wyatt 33 

THE MATING CALL 

It is all quite well to weave a spell 

Of momentary bliss, 
'Bout twig and vine and bees that pine 

For rose buds honeyed kiss, 
Yet after all, sweet nature's charms 

But helps the hour that slips. 
We'd give it all for woman's arms 

And pressure of her lips. 

The dance of rill, the song birds' trill 

The lowing of the kine, 
The gibbous moon, the winds that croon 

And rock the baby pine. 
All start the pulse in gladsome throb 
And lights the inward eye 
j But what is that to hearts that sob 
' For answering lover's sigh? 

'l The man who lives and never gives 
I His dulcet ear to song, 

1 That glad things pour the world o'er 
Does merely shift along. 
But who alone, must hear each tone 
And hears no mating call, 
! How sad of him, God pity him! 
I He's never lived at all. 



34 RHYMES— Wyatt 

WHAT I LEARNED AT SCHOOL 

I hear my son oft' times complain 

That schools are detrimental 
And that his efforts wrought in pain 

Are far from consequental, 
'Tis then my mind to youth recurs 

When I attended district school, 
Of which sweet memory never blurs 

But kindles fresh with pleasant fuel. 

The hedge bound lane through which I walked 

O'er grown with grass and daisy lined, 
Taught me the notes of birds I mocked 

And knowledge of the flowers defined. 
While sometimes through unbrageous fields 

I traversed on my way to school 
I paused knee deep in bluebell yields 

To peer within a placid pool. 

And often times as I've confessed, 

I sneaked from home my hook and line 
To answer sunny hour's behest, — 

The school could do without me, fine, 
Ensconced in some sequestered nook I 

That bordered where the waters sped, ( 

I did not study from a book 

But studied fishing lines instead. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



35 



0, I learned a lot in my school day 

The back hand stroke and sailor style, 
Just how to dive the bull-frog way, 

To tread a bit, then float a v/hile, 
But I don't tell my boy the sum 

Of what I learned at district school, 
Alas ! I say I took the plum 

For being studious to the rule. 













WHAT I LEARNED AT SCHOOL 



RHYMES— Wyatt 37 

HOOK WORM 

Oh! rm not lazy, not at all 

Among the daisies I jest fall 
To rest my weary frame; 

Jest a feelin' o'er me a stealin' 

Has lately came, — 
No — Fm not workin', kinder shirkin' — 

Aint that a shame? 

No-o I don't suffer, 'taint like that 

Jest feel tougher lying flat, 

Don't feel like movin' 
Don't worry 'bout, cause I laid out 

As I'm improvin'. 
Jest let me lay, where breezes play 

xA.s they're so soothin'. 

Caint do much talkin', thoughts o' walkin' 

Jest make me shiver, 
No, I aint blue, 'tween me and you 

Guess it's my liver. 
But I'm alright, my mind is bright 
Jest move my head, — there! that's alright 
Now I can lie right here 'til night 

And listen to the river. 



38 RHYMES— Wyatt 

TO BE AT PEACE 

Give vision to my eye to see tiie path 

That leads to reahiis of sweet and quiet peace, 

And all the glory that Dame Fortune hath 
Could not induce my weary feet to cease 

Their dogged tread with tireless energy 
Along the path if it could I but see. 

Tortuous though the way, and broken by. 

The rocks of toil, by Virtue's hands bestrewn 

That sluggards with unwonted ease who try 

Will find that they have sought the path too soon, 

And yet I will attend, though trials increase 
If but I know the path that leads to peace. 

Ah ! to be at peace, to thyself be true, 

Transfixed with quiet strength, in calm accord 

With elements that build to filter through 
To drive away the self debasing horde, 

To be thy soul's own man unmoved by cries 
Of red lipped siren sin that sings but lies. 




RHYMES— Wyatt 39 

I KNOW EVERYTHING 

I know a pudgy, wudgy nose 

And two big dancing eyes, 
Within their depths nobody knov/s 

'Cept me what mischief lies. 

I know a smiley pair of lips 

And touseled, wouseled hair, 
A little dimpled hand that slips 

In mine to nestle there. 

I know some fatty, patty cheeks 

That hold the pinkest rose. 
And when undressed for bed, there peeks 

The same tint in her toes. 

I know a little bear behind 

But I'm not scared a bit. 
It doesn't even seem to mind 

When I have paddled it. 

I know I'm happy as I can be 

When I feel arms that cling. 
And then it almost 'pears to me 

That I know everything. 



40 RHYMES— Wyatt 

MAMMY'S LULLABY 

Close does eyes, kinky head 

Go ter sleep on mubber's breas' 
Yo' sweet lids am jest lak lead 

Shet 'm tight in peaceful res'. 

Yo' caint neber smile no more 

'Til yo's hab er pleasant dream, 
Des yo' go ter dreamland shore 

Whal I finish dis yere seam. 

One eye's open little sinnah 

Des yo' close dat peep-o-day, 
Yo' am drowsy sence yo' dinnah 

Mischief, des yo' dream away. 

Mubber loves to feel de thrill 

Ob her precious 'gin her breas', 
Now des lay dar pidgeon 'til 

Yo' has hab yo' dream and res'. 

Bless his heart, de lamb's asleep 

Cuddled on his mudder's ahm, 
Please 0, Lord, ah prays ter keep 

Mah baby alius safe from hahm. 




KHYMES— V/yatt 41 

HI, THERE! 

Hi, There! pretty butter-cup 

I will stoop to pick you up 
You will be so close to me 

I can better speak to thee, 
Yesterday, I passed you by. 

You did not even catch my eye 
But then she had not answered yes 

While now I'm filled with happiness. 
Hi, There ! pert and saucy jay. 

How are you this lovely day? 
No, I did not speak to you 

Yesterday — I was so blue. 
Hi, There! pretty turtle dove, 

I know something too 'bout love 
Coo away with your sweet mate 

You must know 'bout love and fate. 
Hi, There! daisy, come with me 

We will make a jolly three. 
Butter-cup and thee and I 

All have twinkles in our eye 
And just think but yesterday 

I passed you in my sullen way. 
Now I give thee just one guess 

Do you think she answered yes? 



42 RHYMES— Wyatt 

Hi, There ! stately poplar trees 

Waving silver in the breeze, 
Hi, There ! smiling sky so blue 

I can smile the same as you, 
Hi, There ! breeze a floating 'round 

With the fragrance you have found, 
Hi, There! air, I breathe so rare. 

Hi, There! everything, hi! there. 



TO THYSELF BE TRUE 

If thee to thyself would be true 

The outward fling that comes to sue 

Thee for thy peaceful state of mind 

Would turn to praise and trail behind. 



THE CROSS 



People who think that this life was intended 
To transmit sorrow and joy equally blended 

That with their blessings, hoped a goodly share 
The Lord imposed suflfering, a cross to bear, 

Hold poor opinions indeed of the Lord, 

Who long ago deemed that His special accord. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 43 

TIME DOES NOT CHANGE 

Time does not change but oft' recurs 

The eye of Nature dims but never blurs, 

Time does not change, only man 

Struggles and frets an instant's span. 



WHO PLEASES US 

O, little bird that sings 

So sweetly from the leafy swings 
Moved by gentle breezes, 

Thee do not know how well thee please us; 
Thee sings because of inner bliss 

Unmindful of thy notes that kiss 
Our ears with tones divine. 

And as thee sings from twig and vine 
While swaying in the breezes 

It must be God, who tries to please us. 



HE WHO IS GREAT 

He who is great is oft' unsung 

And moves obscurely on his way, 
Unheralded by a noisy tongue 

That causes vulgar minds to sway. 
But yet each day he toes the line 

And head to head with silent foe 
He battles bravely 'til supine 

The enemy is stricken low. 



44 RHYMES— Wyatt 

NO APOLOGY 

No man need apologize for living 

Whose mind is free to keep the heart forgiving 
To the source unknown, which gives a wholesome share 

To some, while others grow upon a soil so bare 
That God smiles on the chap for just believing. 



RHYMES— Wyatt 45 

THE FISHERMEN 

Peter, Nathaneal and Thomas and the sons of Zebedee, 

Many, many years ago 

As the bible tells us so. 

At even-tide as chill winds blow 
Went fishing on the Galilee. 

Hour after hour they toiled with their net 

'Til the black waves lie 

'Gainst a frowning sky, 

While star after star went out on high 
And the night grew black as jet. 

Not a fish these weary fishermen caught. 

And their hopes sank low 

As over the bow 

Rose the dripping net, then sank below 
With their efforts all for naught. 

At length the bleak night changed to dawn 

And there on the land. 

This hopeless band 

Saw a watching figure, point His hand 
Abaft, where the net should then be drawn. 

Men are still fishing on life's Galilee 
For all that is real 
That will comfort and heal, 
Which on the dav/n the Christ will reveal 

As to Peter, Nathaneal and Thomas and the sons of Zebedee. 



46 



RHYMES— Wyatt 



And though black is the night and stormy the sea, 

The net must be cast 

'Til all hopes have passed 

And then in the dawn will we see Him at last 
On the shore of life's Galilee. 




m^ 



Gem Publishing Co., Los Angele 



